The Devil in the Dungeons
by Healer Pomfrey
Summary: Harry takes a nightly stroll through Hogwarts and meets someone, who is supposed to be dead - the Devil? Just a little drabble. Set in Harry's seventh year, ignores the epilogue, sick!Harry


**The Devil in the Dungeons**

**~ by Healer Pomfrey ~**

_I'm not a native speaker of English. Please excuse my mistakes.  
All recognizable characters belong to J. K. Rowling, and I am not earning anything by writing this story._

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Harry slowly dragged himself out of his dormitory. He couldn't sleep, and his dorm mates' easy, regular breathing was going to drive him crazy. It was the first time after the war that he really felt sick. '_It's probably just a bad cold or something that'll go away after a day_,' he thought, feeling absolutely annoyed with his sore body. '_I'll just go for a walk_,' he mused, '_maybe I'll be able to sleep later on_.' He slowly left the Gryffindor common room and strolled through the empty halls, glancing at the parts of the castle that still reminded him of the battle of Hogwarts. Eight months ago, Hogwarts had finally reopened, and Harry was about to finish his seventh year in two months' time.

'_Should I become an Auror, or should I accept Professor McGonagall's offer to become the new Transfiguration teacher?_' he mused. It was a very difficult decision. Ron was going to become an Auror, while Hermione intended to accept the offered position of Charms professor at Hogwarts.

Harry leaned against the wall as a dizzy spell overcame him. '_I should go to the hospital wing and ask Madam Pomfrey for a potion_,' a small voice at the back of his head informed him of the obvious; however, Harry decided to ignore the voice and slowly proceeded towards the dungeons as a wave of heat rushed through his body. '_The dungeons are always cool_,' he thought, remembering his Occlumency lessons with Professor Snape.

Suddenly, he succumbed to a coughing spell and leaned against the wall in exhaustion, slowly letting himself sink onto the floor as the coughs subsided. '_I need to get out of the dungeons. It's too cold here_,' he thought but couldn't muster the energy to scramble back onto his feet. '_I should have stayed in front of the fireplace in the common room_.' He fiercely rubbed his forehead, only to realise that it didn't help clear his splitting headache in the least.

Harry spent an infinite time on the cold dungeon floor, torn between violent shivers and heat waves. He sat there with his eyes closed and was just about to drift away when a faint sound made him slowly open his achy eyes just a little bit.

'_The Devil_!' was Harry's first thought at the sight of the dark figure that stood a few metres from him and was only faintly visible in the weak rays of the moonlight that came in through the single charmed windows at the side of the corridor. '_The devil?_' he wondered; '_How and why would the devil come to the Hogwarts dungeons?_' He turned around and placed his forehead against the cold stone wall to check how hot his own skin was, realising that it was very hot. '_I must be delirious_,' he decided and chose to ignore the devil, closing his achy eyes in relief.

However, all of a sudden, the devil chose to speak to him, causing a violent shiver to run through Harry's spine.

"Mr. Potter, didn't you learn anything during all your Hogwarts years?" a cold baritone voice, of which Harry had been sure that he'd never hear it again, spoke up.

"Snape?" Harry asked in disbelief, letting out a few harsh coughs. "No, that can't be; Snape is dead, unfortunately. There is so much I'd have wanted to tell him. I'll need to get out of here. It's too cold, and I'm getting delirious."

Having no idea that he had voiced his thoughts, he flinched back badly as the devil, who somehow reminded him of his former Potions professor, came nearer and slowly leaned over him.

"You're definitely ill enough to be delirious. Come with me," the silky voice penetrated his ears, before he began to panic as he felt himself being picked up and carried away.

Before he could get a good look at his kidnapper's face, several colourful stars appeared in front of his eyes, and the world around him turned completely black.

HP HEALER POMFREY HP

When Harry's mind slowly returned to awareness, he found himself in a comfortable bed in an unknown room. He felt slightly better than he had felt during the night, although his whole body was still sore and he felt hot and cold at the same time. Just when he looked around with interest, wondering where he was, the door that had been slightly ajar opened fully and Professor Snape stepped in.

The sight of the supposed to be dead professor made Harry jerk into a seating position, only to be overcome by a dizzy spell.

"Easy, Mr. Potter," the professor said in a soft voice. "I took the liberty of bringing you here into my guest room during the night to get you out of the cold dungeon corridor and administer your first dose of potion. You're suffering from the wizard's flu, and you'll need at least three more doses to completely recover." With that, the Potions Master reached out and gently helped Harry to sit up, before he pressed a phial against his lips.

Harry's mind was still too foggy to doubt the professor's identity and his words; therefore, he obediently swallowed, sighing in relief as he felt his symptoms ease. "Professor," he asked in confusion, "why are you here? I mean... Sorry, I mean, you're alive. Everyone thinks you're dead," he said lamely.

Snape scoffed. "Do I look dead to you? No, I survived the snake's bite; however, I am still recovering, and it'll take another few months until I'll be ready to teach again."

"Ah, that's why McGonagall asked Hermione to teach Charms and not Potions, which was what she originally wanted," Harry blurted out.

Snape smirked. "Professor McGonagall, Mr. Potter. Only the Headmistress and Madam Pomfrey know about my presence here, and I'd like to keep it at that."

"I won't tell anyone," Harry promised, still feeling dazed and confused.

"Would you like to remain here until you're fully recovered, or do you want me to take you to the hospital wing?" Snape asked in a soft voice.

"Not the hospital wing," came the automatic reply. "Oh, um... if I'm not too much of a burden, sir. There are a lot of things I'd like to speak about with you, sir. But the others are going to miss me," he suddenly remembered.

"I already informed the Headmistress about your whereabouts, and she is going to inform your teachers and your sidekicks accordingly."

It took Harry two more days to fully recover, and during that time, he and the professor spent much time playing wizard's chess and talking about Harry's mother, her and the professor's time at Hogwarts, the war and everything under the sun. By the time Harry was finally released, he had the impression as if he had gained a new friend, and he had made up his mind and decided to become a professor from the next school year onwards. '_Thank God the professor found me that time, even if I thought he was the devil_,' he thought, chuckling as he returned to Gryffindor.

**The End**

_One of my readers__ was so kind and drew a picture for this story. You can find it in the Photos folder of my Yahoo newsgroup! Thank you so much__! __(the server here won't let me type in your name, btw!)_


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